The Tragedy of Methos, Prince of Seacouver
by Triskell
Summary: Highlander/X-over with Hamlet - contest entry (SLASH)


Contest Entry for 'Slashing the Bard'(HIGHLANDER QUILL CLUB)  
  
Notes: The play is based on 'Hamlet, Prince of Denmark', some parts may remind of 'Romeo & Juliet'. There is one quote ("...the rest is silence." Hamlet's last words - Act V, Scene II), the rest is my own interpretation and re-working of Shakespeare and his words. The play and esp. the ending is dedicated to my friend who first introduced me to 'Highlander'. The characters used herein don't belong to me, I intend no copyright infringement by their use.

~*~ THE TRAGEDY OF METHOS, PRINCE OF SEACOUVER ~*~  
© Triskell, September 2000

PLAY in 4 ACTS  
  
Characters:  
  
Methos, Prince of Seacouver  
  
Kronos, King of Seacouver, brother to the late King Dawson  
Amanda, Queen of Seacouver; successful author of romance novels, widow of King Dawson, now married to Kronos

Ghost of the late King Dawson of Seacouver  
Silas, councillor the King  
Cassandra, daughter to Silas (former lover of Methos)  
Caspian, son to Silas 

Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, a Scotsman, Methos' best friend and lover  
  
Hired assassins disguised as players  
Richie, the King's valet  
  
Soldier I  
Soldier II  
Soldier III

  
Adam of the Gathering, sworn enemy of the Kingdom of Seacouver

  
  
ACT I  
  
Scene I  
  
A bell tolls. Three soldiers huddle together at the top of the battlements. They shiver, though the night is warm.  
  
Soldier I:  
Methinks I hear him, comrades.  
  
Soldier II:  
I told ye...let's retire!  
  
Soldier III:  
'Tis but the chime of midnight bells.  
  
Soldier I:  
Hark - do ye hear the rustling?  
  
Soldier III:  
'Tis but the wings of owls that hunt at night.  
  
Soldier II:  
Mark ye this sound? 'Tis ghostly, 'tis unnatural!  
  
Soldier III:  
'Tis but the coughing of a guard who stands below us at his duty.  
  
A shadow appears and traverses the stage to where the three soldiers stand. They do not see him at first and continue to whisper among themselves. When the figure steps into the light, one of the men looks up and shrieks.  
  
Soldier I:  
Behold - the King! The whiteness of his form pales moon and stars! Run, lest his blood-smeared guitar strike a chord in you!  
  
Soldier III:  
My soul, 'tis wonderful and strange…  
  
He stares at the King, and attempts to bow. His comrades grip him by his arms and drag him off the stage.   
  
King Dawson:  
Alone I stand, at midnight hour. The bells have tolled and at this gloomy time I'm all alone.  
  
Two men appear behind the ghost, holding hands and whispering, oblivious to their surroundings.  
  
King Dawson:  
Methinks I hear the voice belonging to my son - Methos - can it be you, my child?  
  
One of the men looks up, sees the figure and shakes his head in wonder, the other stares at the ghost and raises his hand to his lips.  
  
Duncan:  
Most unlike any man I've seen and yet I do believe 'tis thy good father here before us.  
  
Methos:  
'Tis most like my father, yet most unlikely it be him - for he's been dead these four months and a day.  
  
Duncan:  
He beckons thee to follow him; my blood runs cold to see his ghostly frame. I beg thee, do not follow him.  
  
Methos:  
This spirit hath a pleasant countenance, methinks, and therefore I will follow it.  
  
Duncan:  
I beg thee, friend, do not go with it, stay with me.  
  
Methos:  
I'll join thee in thy chambers later, get thee hence.  
  
Duncan:  
Come with me now; what if thou findst the spirit treacherous? If thou but slip, thy body will lie low, smashed into pieces on the rocks below.  
  
Methos:  
Fear not the dead, my friend. Their time hath passed. They are but shadows of their former self. This ghost will do no harm to me.  
  
The men look at each other for a moment, than Duncan shrugs his shoulders. He hugs Methos tightly, and leaves.  
  
Methos:  
We are alone, oh ragged spirit. Speak now, or hold thy peace and trouble us no more.  
  
King Dawson:  
My son, my flesh, my blood, my life…oh woe is me that I must meet you thus! My earthly form, decayed and lonely in the shrouds of musty soil and rotting, dark decay…  
  
Methos:  
Speak plainly, spirit - tell me what hath brought thee here!  
  
King Dawson:  
The foulness of my breath reveals the stinking crime that made me this - a lonely corpse. My most beloved, noble Queen, the dear and tender wife, companion of my youth…  
  
Methos:  
I charge thee, by the moon and stars, be plain! What is it that you wish to tell me?  
  
King Dawson:  
Of murder must I speak good son. And of your honour and the truth that you must needs reveal. My passing in my prime, my lonely death was naught but one most horrible and bloody crime! Know thou my child thy uncle, Kronos, drove the blade into my heart; 'twas no assassin who did end my life. No servant sent by Gathering to end my days, but he…  
  
Methos:  
I understand thee, noble ghost. And as your heir I will demand that justice and revenge thou seekst.  
  
King Dawson:  
Thou speakest like a right good boy. But let me tell you that your mother, my most noble, trusted Queen hath had no part in all this business; her innocence is now defiled by Kronos' vile endeavours.  
  
Methos:  
I will act swiftly sir, upon your wish.   
  
He bows deeply before the ghost, who nods solemnly and vanishes. A few notes of the Blues can be heard in the night.  
  
Methos:  
A passing air of Blues, methinks it was my father who did speak to me. I needs must do his bidding, yet my soul rebels against the darkness of the deed…  
  
  
Scene II  
  
A bedchamber. Duncan sits on a four-poster bed wearing a costly tartan nightgown of blue and green silk. Candles are lit around the room and the Scot reads from a huge book. Methos slips through the door quietly and unobserved and gazes at the other man, smiling.  
  
Duncan:  
'Is it thy will thy image should keep open  
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?  
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken  
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?' (1)  
  
Methos:  
I did not know I did affect thee thus.  
  
Duncan:  
Good, my love! I heard thee not - thy skin is flushed, and shadows hang upon thine eyes. What, did the ghost bring woeful tidings?  
  
Methos:  
The spirit hath told me that it was, indeed, my noble father once. It said my uncle Kronos hath taken his dear life; now stand I here, uncertain of my place in this.  
  
Duncan:  
Thou hast been called upon to bring your father justice and revenge.  
  
Methos:  
What justice is the exchange of one life for another? Why should I do the same thing that my uncle did?   
  
Duncan:  
What else can there by done? Dost thou have proof to convict Kronos, canst thou justly accuse him?  
  
Methos:  
I cannot.   
  
Duncan:  
Then thou hast no choice but to put forth a challenge. Kronos must answer it and when you take his head the matter will be done with.  
  
Methos:  
I will not do this. 'Tis against my conscience.  
  
Duncan:  
I know thee love, thou dost not want to fight. Yet is it not thy duty to avenge your father's death?  
  
Methos:  
Why me? My mother wields a sword with grace and does excel most other women in this art.  
  
Duncan:  
The Queen cares not for worldly fashions; she writes all day and night and will not be disturbed.   
  
Methos:  
She was most wickedly abused! This rogue hath tricked her into marriage!  
  
Duncan:  
I doubt your telling her will much delay your own responsibility.  
  
Methos:  
Let us talk no more of this tonight. Let me but rest in peace a while.  
  
Duncan (contritely, opening his arms):  
So be it, love.  
  
  
Scene III  
  
A different bedchamber. Blue and red velvet hangings adorn the wall. In the corner, near the window stands a table, lit by a huge brass chandelier. The Queen lounges in her chair, bent over a piece of vellum, chewing the upper end of her quill. The King enters, sticks his chest out proudly and clears his throat.  
  
King Kronos:  
Our loving wife, we wish to speak with you.  
  
Queen Amanda (without looking up):  
Not now, I have another chapter that doth call for me to write it down. 'Tis hard work and my hand is sore, yet I cannot afford to pause. The vellum is right here and likewise is my trusty quill - sweet dreams my dear, my muse is calling me.  
  
King Kronos (mumbles as he retreats):  
'Twas an old besotted man who loved her like a saint. I love her not, nor will I ever worship her. Yet do I like her form and wish she would give me her favour. I have the kingdom now and when I've done away with Seacouver's lawful heir I will make sure she does my bidding.  
  
  
Scene IV  
  
A hallway in the castle. The morning light casts a dull reddish glow on the worn grey stones. Cassandra, Caspian and Silas, each of them holding a bundle wrapped in multi-coloured cloaks, walk along at a brisk pace.  
  
Cassandra:  
Father, I must speak with you!  
  
Caspian:  
'Tis of great import - for the King and you, dear father.  
  
Silas:  
Now children, 'tis not time for any such narrations. Our little guests here (indicating the cloaks) must needs be fed and seen to.  
  
Cassandra (frowning):  
I never failed my duty to your animals, my lord! But still, I must insist you hear me out! The King must know of this!  
  
Silas:  
Hush, child. Let but your brother take the matter to the King. Or go yourself, if thou must speak of it.  
  
Caspian:  
But, father - listen, let her speak!  
  
Silas:  
Dost thou intend to try my patience? Go now, leave the little dears with me. You are but spoilt, impatient brats!  
  
Cassandra and Caspian lay down the cloaks in front of a huge oak door. One of them falls open to reveal a dog's head, the other meows timidly. Silas is on his knees at once, speaking to them in hushed whispers. Cassandra and Caspian move away, shaking their heads in irritation.  
  
Cassandra:  
'Tis an outrage and a scandal! If it were known our father treats the affairs of his King with such impertinence, so little interest…  
  
Caspian:  
Then let us tell the King what we do know! He might be grateful for the information and we might end with high rewards…  
  
Cassandra:  
Let us make haste then, there must be no delay!  
  
They walk swiftly down the corridor towards the throne room. Silas watches them go and sighs.  
  
Silas:  
Methinks I hear a warning in the air. My time is up, for this new King plays false in all he does. He hath no need of me these days, nor have I need to be his councillor. That King defiles the throne, he hath no honour nor remorse and I do fear that I will be the next to feel his rage. If but my children would beware, or else this unwholesome ambition will end their lives before their days are numbered as done.  
  
~*~  
  
ACT II  
  
Scene I  
  
The throne room. The King is alone, pacing the length of the great chamber. He is deep in thought. Cassandra and Caspian enter timidly.   
  
Caspian:  
My liege? Do give us but a moment in which we will assail your noble ears with such a tale that you might thank us afterwards.  
  
King Kronos:  
Is not your father here to speak of this? Methinks he is our councillor!  
  
Cassandra:  
My liege, forgive an old man his trespass and let me speak to you instead.  
  
King Kronos:  
Then speak!  
  
Cassandra:  
My Lord, the Prince who once did swear to love me truly and forever hath broken this most noble vow!  
  
King Kronos:  
This is the matter that hath so aggrieved you?  
  
Cassandra:  
Not for his love I grieve my liege, but for his downfall.  
  
King Kronos:  
Downfall? You speak in riddles, gentle lady!  
  
Cassandra:  
The man the Prince hath spoken of as 'friend', the playmate of his youth and confidante of many years…  
  
King Kronos:  
You hesitate to speak, your cheeks are crimson child, you blush! What is it that you will not tell?  
  
Caspian:  
My liege - 'tis modesty that doth so tinge her fair skin and 'tis bluntness only that doth make me speak. My Lord, the Prince and his companion have, this twelve-month been most strangely and intimately connected.  
  
King Kronos:  
We cannot say we understand the import of your words, good man.  
  
Caspian:  
The love that once the Prince hath sworn to my dear sister - this same love he hath now transferred upon the Scotsman in his company.  
  
King Kronos:  
We are astonished and we find ourselves deprived of speech. Doth not the Prince know our laws forbid such 'friendships' as you speak of?  
  
Cassandra:  
My Lord, I do believe he knows, yet what good are laws against the love of feverish hearts?  
  
King Kronos:  
We must act in this matter! We'll send the young Prince out to England and keep his friend with us at court. Mayhap the Prince's spirit will be cured of his unlawful 'inclination'.  
  
Cassandra:  
My thoughts are with you and the Prince, my Lord.  
  
Cassandra curtsies and leaves the room. Caspian remains with the King.  
  
Caspian:  
My Lord, I do presume you do not like the Prince as well as you do say.  
  
King Kronos:  
Indeed, good sir, your quick perception is most welcome as we see a similar emotion in your eyes.  
  
Caspian:  
The Prince, my Lord, hath toiled with my poor sister's heart. She doth believe he will return to her once that the Scot is gone, yet I do fear that he is constant to this love, more constant than he was to her.  
  
King Kronos:  
Then we will tell you of our plan to finally secure the Prince's doom.   
  
Caspian:  
Charge me, give me an office Lord, and I will do your bidding!  
  
King Kronos:  
The Prince will meet some players on his way to England. Good fellows that will take his mind most pleasantly from any worries. But they, whose friendship will console his broken heart, do bear the orders that will mean the death of our most noble Prince.  
  
Caspian:  
An excellent plan, my liege. It cannot fail!  
  
King Kronos:  
Then let us do it and be done.  
  
  
Scene II  
  
Duncan's bedchamber. He sits moodily amidst his open trunks. Clothes are strewn carelessly about, tartan kilts lying on the stone floor beside white linen shirts and coarse, woollen cloaks. Methos enters, slamming the door shut, his face contorted with rage, his eyes blazing.  
  
Methos:  
The King knows of our love.  
  
Duncan:  
Is that why thou must go away?  
  
Methos:  
It is indeed, I'm sure, though he will say no more to it. He claims my honour is at stake - how can he dare to question our feelings?  
  
Duncan:  
Your country's laws are harsh in this, yet once you have ascended to the throne…  
  
Methos:  
Never! My uncle will not let me take my rightful place - I care not, for I would I were at any other place but this! 'Tis like a prison for the mind, and even more so for my heart.  
  
Duncan:  
Then go to England love, I prithee. I will follow with all speed, once that my visit is concluded.  
  
Methos:  
I do not like this plot to make thee stay.  
  
Duncan:  
Thou needst not worry. It will all be well.   
  
Methos:  
Promise me that thou wilt trust no man or woman in this court. No one!  
  
Duncan:  
Rest thou assured of it. And thou wilt swear not to be false?  
  
Methos:  
If I be false, the sea shall be my lonely grave!  
  
Duncan:  
When must thou leave?  
  
Methos:  
My ship sails with the morning tide.  
  
Duncan:  
Then let us cherish this one night that we have left.  
  
Methos:  
So be it - gentle night have mercy on two crying souls.  
  
  
Scene III  
  
The throne room. Caspian stands beside the King. The court is present, Duncan sits at the far end of the hall. Only the Queen is absent. Silas enters, lead by two guards.  
  
Soldier I + II:  
My Lord, here is the man.  
  
King Kronos (gravely):  
Silas, our councillor. How dear thou wert to us. We are bewildered by this deed, this wicked deed thou standst accused of.  
  
Silas:  
My liege! I know not what this means! I did not…  
  
King Kronos:  
It grieves us to the soul that thou hast been so untrue to thy King.  
  
Silas:  
But…I…Cassandra - what is the matter here?  
  
Cassandra averts her eyes. The King continues, his eyes hooded and his face a mask.  
  
King Kronos:  
Thou hast, this twelve-month acted as a traitor to thy country and thy King! We have the proof of this from the same damned villain to whom thou hast with tainted soul sold our secrets to! The man from Gathering hath given gold for this, our country, and thou, abominable creature, hast taken it!  
  
Silas:  
My liege, I never counselled anyone but you! I know not what this means, but I do swear that there's no treason in my heart.  
  
He looks at Cassandra and meets her eyes. They are cold. Turning back to the King and his son he sees the same, icy gaze.  
  
Silas:  
I see now where that conspiracy lies, my liege! No wrong was done by me; but those that triumph now will fall the deeper when their end doth come.  
  
King Kronos:  
Take him away. We will no longer look on him.  
  
The guards take Silas out of the room. The Queen enters, distressed. Her hair flies about her face and she holds a piece of vellum, bearing the seal and signature of the King.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
What is this? Who doth dare to write such untrue accusations? Old Silas never harmed a soul - he would not sell his country to a foe!  
  
King Kronos:  
Our Queen, we are most horrified by this, yet there is proof…  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Proof? Against an innocent man? I wish to speak with him at once!  
  
Bells toll loudly and hushed whispers are heard all over the room as blue bolts of lightening flare up and crackle outside, some find their way to the Immortals in the assembly. Duncan casts his eyes on the floor, his hands are clenched into fists.  
  
King Kronos:  
We are afeard you come too late. The sentence hath this moment been affected. Our former councillor Silas was - just now - beheaded.  
  
Queen Amanda (shaken, her eyes blazing):  
We will further speak of this.  
  
She turns and marches out of the room, pushing aside a guard who has not moved out of her way quickly enough and sends him crashing against the wall.  
  
  
Scene IV  
  
Duncan's bedchamber. He lies on his bed reading a letter. The window is open and the rain can be heard pelting down outside. The candles flicker time and again in the gusts of wind, but Duncan doesn't seem to notice.  
  
Duncan:  
'I hope this letter finds you well, my friend.  
I have now travelled many days alone,   
For those that seemed my true companions were  
Nought else but villains hungry for my blood.  
They bore a letter to the English King -   
One that held my certain death inscribed  
In bold, black ink, my uncle's letters.  
Those villains stole upon me in the dark,  
And had my sleep been deeper I would have  
Paid with my own severed head for this sweet rest.  
I struck them down and later searched their quarters  
Where I found the orders of the King of Seacouver.  
But know my love that I am well and will,  
God willing soon return to you. For now I am  
Disposed to shed my uncle's ruthless blood and  
Take his cursed head.  
Be on your guard, my friend and trust no one!'  
  
The curtains are suddenly blown into the chamber and a violent gust of wind extinguishes the candles. Duncan reaches under his pillow. Lightening flashes and a grey blade shimmers in the unnatural light. The Scot parries the blow aimed at his neck, facing his attacker. The duel is fast-paced and quiet except for the sound of clashing steel.  
  
Soon the would-be assassin lies dead at Duncan's feet. When he lights a candle, he recognises Cassandra. He sinks down onto his feet as the Quickening overtakes him. When he has recovered he wipes his sword on the bed covers and wraps the body in them.  
  
Duncan:  
That thou wouldst challenge me - I knew we loved the same man, yet I wish thy death had served a better cause than jealousy and hate. I'll spare us both the shame and rumours of a public accusation, therefore I will this night bury thy body near the church.  
  
~*~  
  
ACT III  
  
Scene I  
  
The throne room. The sun shines through the multi-coloured glass windows, casting bright shadows onto the heavy tapestries that hang on the walls. The King and Caspian sit in two of the large chairs.  
  
King Kronos:  
You seem exceptionally grave this morning, friend.  
  
Caspian:  
Indeed, my Lord; I'm thinking of my sister. As was your bidding I did send her to the Prince's lover. But she hath not yet returned.  
  
King Kronos:  
Thinkst thou that she was slain?  
  
Caspian:  
Alas, I know not. Mayhap my sister changed her mind and did not do the deed as planned. She might have hid in order to avoid your anger, my good noble Lord.  
  
A timid knock is heard. Richie, the King's valet enters, his face troubled, a letter in his hand.  
  
Richie:  
My Lord! There is a letter for your grace - a stranger gave it to me. He seemed familiar, but I couldn't place him.  
  
King Kronos:  
Give me the letter, boy. This will be all.  
  
Richie bows and departs. The King breaks the seal with a frown and peruses the letter. He clears his throat and begins to read.  
  
King Kronos:  
'Lord Kronos,  
Know that I'm returned from my journey,  
Since there was an attempt made on my life   
Whose author I must bring to justice.  
I will, before long, stand before you and  
The whole assembled court to make a full  
And detailed report of all these events.  
Methos'  
  
Caspian:  
He hath returned? 'Tis unexpected, nay 'tis most unnatural this plan should fail.  
  
King Kronos:  
Not every plan succeeds, my friend, we needs must find another way.  
  
Caspian:  
But what can we do?  
  
Again, a knock is heard and the valet enters, his face pale and his eyes wide.  
  
Richie:  
My lord Caspian! I have a message for you, from the priest of the small parish church down by the willow.  
  
Caspian:  
What is it, boy? Speak, I charge thee!  
  
Richie:  
I have been told to tell you that the priest found a fresh mound of earth in a corner of the cemetery this morning. There was a piece of cloth showing and that caught his attention. So he gave orders to dig the cloth up and…my Lord they found…the body of the Lady Cassandra.  
  
Caspian:  
Was she beheaded?  
  
Richie:  
Yes, my Lord. The priest gave orders to lay her body in a coffin. If you please to tell him where and when you want her buried…  
  
King Kronos:  
Go now, boy. We have received the message and will act accordingly.  
  
Richie nods, bows and leaves the throne room in a hurry.  
  
King Kronos:  
It is the Scotsman who is to be held responsible for this, methinks.  
  
Caspian:  
I will tear him up with my own hands, and then, when he's in agony and writhes beneath me I will sever his damned head from his shoulders with one mighty blow!  
  
King Kronos:  
We understand your grief and offer this as consolation. Know, that when Methos doth return, he will be reunited with his lover. Therefore, his lover's death would soon become a remedy for both your hate and my displeasure.  
  
Caspian:  
Then I will kill the Scotsman right away!  
  
King Kronos:  
Wait, my friend! I have a better plan. Methinks we should have Methos present when his 'friend' is slain. It would secure his instant grief and when he charges you, enraged, you will with ease behead him too.  
  
Caspian:  
If he doth charge me during the Quickening then I am doomed!  
  
King Kronos:  
Fear not, the timing lies within my hands. For I will keep an eye on this performance and co-ordinate the players in my scheme.  
  
Caspian:  
My life is yours to use as it doth please your majesty.  
  
King Kronos:  
Then let us do it.  
  
  
Scene II  
  
A clearing in the woods near the castle. The spire of the parish church can be seen looming in the distance. The evening sun casts a bloody reddish glow across the green leaves and the air is still and warm. Duncan sits on a log, his tartan cloak lies beside him. Methos appears from in between the trees. His travelling clothes are torn and dirty. The two men embrace, then sit down on the tree trunk together.  
  
Methos:  
My heart, methinks thou art much sadder than when we did part.  
  
Duncan:  
Time hath not been our friend. The Queen is very grieved, for good old Silas, thy late father's trusted councillor was executed a few days ago on charges of high treason.  
  
Methos:  
'Tis impossible!  
  
Duncan:  
Nay, I fear 'tis not. Old Silas was too good a man, too loyal to his former King. He held no love for Kronos, and therefore he was betrayed - by his new King and by his children.  
  
Methos:  
Cassandra?  
  
Duncan:  
Aye. Last night she came into my chamber. She sought to take my head, but I was faster; now she rests down at the orchard by the parish church.  
  
Methos:  
Thou hast not told the King?  
  
Duncan:  
I thought that it were better I kept quiet.  
  
Methos:  
'Tis well done.   
  
Duncan:  
Doth the King know that thou hast returned?  
  
Methos:  
Aye. I have told him that I am informed of his crimes, now 'tis his cue to answer to my challenge.  
  
Duncan:  
I do not trust the honour of the King, nor do I trust that he will rise up to your bait.  
  
Methos:  
If he doth not, then I will find a way to make him pay. I am resolved to take revenge, for my dear father and the injustice done to Silas.  
  
  
Scene III  
  
Hallway in the castle. Duncan and Methos are walking towards the throne room. Caspian comes in from the other direction.   
  
Caspian (calls):  
Villain - dost thou call thyself Duncan, of the clan MacLeod?  
  
Duncan (menacingly):  
Do you challenge me, Sir?  
  
Caspian:  
Aye, villain. Thou hast killed my sister and therefore thou must die.  
  
Caspian confronts Duncan and Methos now. He takes off one of his gloves and throws it onto the ground in front of them. Duncan moves forward to take it up, but Methos puts a restraining hand on his arm.  
  
Methos (whispering):  
Don't let this puppy anger thee!  
  
Duncan (in a fierce tone):  
I can't allow the taint of my Clan's honour!  
  
Methos:  
I would much rather have thee safe! Throw off the blear restraints of honour! 'Tis not worth such a sacrifice. Thou wast in your right to defend thyself, the girl deserved her death.  
  
Caspian (sneers):  
Disarmed by his lover, bereft of honour and of choice. What a sight to see! A MacLeod whose fear doth swiftly counsel flight!  
  
Methos opens his mouth to speak and tightens his grip on Duncan's arm, but the other man shakes off his hand and picks up the glove, throwing it in Caspian's face with a sniff of contempt.  
  
Duncan:  
Know that my pleasure serves no man but myself, boy! Thou wilt answer this impudence with thy head!  
  
Duncan and Caspian turn around on their heels, storming off in opposite directions. Methos remains standing in the hallway, his face grave as he sighs.  
  
Methos:  
Thy life is precious to me, love. Yet wert thou other than thou art, I could not love and cherish thee as much.  
  
  
Scene IV  
  
Duncan's bedchamber. No candles are lit, the two figures standing by the bed are barely discernible in the pale glow of the moonlight that filters through the windows.  
  
Methos:  
So ill divining are my thoughts, that I must hold thee in my arms tonight to find some measurement of peace.  
  
Duncan:  
'Tis strange, for I do feel the same.   
  
Methos:  
Then talk no more my love, for dawn is but a few short hours away and a knell tolls with bloody certainty deep in my aching heart.  
  
~*~  
  
ACT IV  
  
Scene I  
  
The throne room - it is decorated with multi-coloured flags, their colours flashing proudly in the sunlight that filters in and adds a warm glow the cold grey stone floor and the dark tapestries on the walls. The King and Caspian are alone in the room, Caspian is polishing his blade.   
  
Caspian:  
Today shall be a triumph for the two of us! We shall take the heads of these defiant knaves and glory when we drink of their powers.  
  
King Kronos:  
Be not so sure of victory, my friend. We have seen them both in battle, they excel the best in swordsmanship. Therefore, we will prepare a potion that shall weaken their reflexes, cloud their minds and fill each bone and muscle with a heavy load of lead.  
  
Caspian:  
Speak you of poison, my good Lord?  
  
King Kronos:  
Aye. A substance whose venomous tendrils will ensure thy triumph in these bloody duels. We shall put the potions on this side of the table; mark thou well where the glasses stand, for thou must drink their health as well.  
  
  
Scene II  
  
The throne room has filled with spectators, the Queen has taken a seat beside her husband, though she does not look at him. Caspian shows off with his sword. Duncan and Methos enter, side by side through the oak doors. Trumpets announce their arrival and the doors are closed behind them.  
  
King Kronos:  
Welcome, gentle friends! Now that we all are here, let us drink to the health of these two brave men who this day are pitched against each other - worth against worth - to decide whose honour will be satisfied.  
  
The King indicates the glasses on the table, Caspian takes up one of them and raises it to his lips. Duncan and Methos remain immobile, it is Methos who speaks first.  
  
Methos:  
A real man hath no need of spirits to boost his courage, therefore we both decline your offer.  
  
Duncan:  
Art thou in form to brave my sword, Caspian?  
  
Caspian:  
Thy head is mine already, bloody Scot!  
  
The King raises his hand and beckons the two men to the middle of the room. Methos moves to stand behind his mother's throne. His face is impassive, but his eyes are burning. At a sign from the King a trumpeter announces the beginning of the duel.  
The two men glare at each other, circling slowly, their swords balanced in their hands. They taunt each other, moving towards each other and drawing back again, their blades clashing now and then in an explosion of sparkling sunlight and metal brushing together. Methos' face twitches slightly at each thrust.  
When Duncan receives a deep cut to his left shoulder, Methos steps forward. His mother's hand on his arm holds him back. Her face is calm, but her eyes dart across the room time and again.  
The fighting continues, apart from the adversaries' harsh breathing and the sound of the swords, the throne room is silent. The King finally calls for a brief repose. Duncan bows towards Methos and the Queen. He does not see Caspian sidling up to him from behind.  
  
Methos:  
Duncan!  
  
Methos storms forward, but he is too late to stop Caspian from severing his lover's head. A bang is heard as the Queen's chair falls backwards. She takes one of the swords lying on a table beside her and holds on to it, as Duncan's Quickening rushes across the assembly.   
When it has passed, Amanda throws the sword to her son. Methos and Caspian get up slowly, still shaken. Death is written plainly across the Prince's features, his body moves with the grace of a giant cat pouncing on his prey. His blade makes contact with his adversary's and he engages the other man in a deadly dance.  
Caspian is driven back and Methos corners him. The King stands up.  
  
King Kronos (shouts):  
Enough!   
  
Methos does not heed him and raises his sword to finish Caspian off. When the King draws his own sword, he finds the cold steel of a blade at his throat.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Thou wilt not stir a foot, man! 'Tis not thy place to interfere.  
  
Caspian (wails, his arms raised protectively in front of him):  
I never sought to injure thee! 'Twas all the working of the King! I was but forced to do his bidding…  
  
Methos shakes his head, tears in his eyes as he brings down the sword. When he turns towards the assembly, his face is devoid of emotion. He does not even seem to register the Quickening that passes through him.  
  
Methos:  
What dost thou say in defence of thyself, uncle? Dost thou deny thy blade hath killed my father? Dost thou deny the authorship of letters charging the King of England to take my head? Dost thou deny thy orders to have Duncan of the clan MacLeod killed by Silas' heirs? Dost thou deny these charges?  
  
The Queen has lowered her sword, her breath is coming in soft gasps, and her eyes are wide. The King takes the opportunity and runs from the room. Methos moves after him, but his mother stays him.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Put up thy sword! Disperse the crowd. I will go after him.  
  
She pulls her skirts up over her ankles and hurries after the King. Methos turns towards the (now silent) crowd.  
  
Methos (bitter):  
Your 'revels' are now ended. All depart!   
  
  
Scene III  
  
The throne room is deserted, shouts can be heard from the courtyard. Methos sits beside Duncan's lifeless form. He has put a silk curtain across the body. The Queen returns, her blade stained with blood.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
'Tis done. The cursed soul hath left its earthly den.   
  
Methos:  
Hast thou ever loved my father?  
  
Queen Amanda:  
He was my husband and my friend. I loved him as it well becomes a wife.  
  
Methos:  
No more?  
  
The Queen sits down on the stone floor beside Methos and takes off the silver locket that hangs around her head. She hands it to him.  
  
Methos:  
It shows a howling wolf.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
'Tis the emblem that was on my lover's shield. He was still young when fate took him away from me.  
  
Methos:  
Did my father know?  
  
Queen Amanda:  
I told him that my heart was lost forever.   
  
Methos:  
Thou hast not forgot this man?  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Nay. My heart lies buried in his grave.  
  
Methos:  
If thou dost know a lover's grief, I prithee - release me from my pain.  
  
Footsteps are heard from the far end of the hallway leading to the throne room. The Queen sighs.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Thou wilt learn to live without him.  
  
Methos:  
I cannot. If thou canst not perform this office, I will attempt it by myself.  
  
The Queen ponders a moment. Finally, she slowly nods her head, tears in her eyes. She embraces Methos, lays her hand on his cheek and kisses his forehead.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Turn around, love.  
  
Methos turns his back to her. She takes his hand, pressing it while she picks his sword up from the floor. The sun sparkles on the blade as she raises it above her head… Methos' body slumps forward. The sword clatters onto the stones, the Quickening slams into the kneeling woman with full force…  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Thou wast not as strong as thou wast meant to be, my son.  
  
The oak doors to the throne room are thrown open. A figure clad in black, his face hidden by a dark mask, strides inside.  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Who art thou, stranger?  
  
Gathering:  
My name is Adam of the Gathering. Give yourself up, woman!  
  
Queen Amanda:  
Hast thou come to take my head? Then do not tarry! This life hath lost its charm.  
  
Gathering draws his sword, positioning it at the Queen's bent head. The blade slices through the air. An explosive burst of blue lightening envelops the black figure, drawing an anguished scream from him. He falls to his knees, leaning heavily on his sword. When the energy subsides, the man stands up and removes his mask to reveal a prominent nose and a mischievous grin. He strolls towards the throne and falls onto it in a boneless sprawl.  
  
Gathering:  
'Tis done now - there is only one…and the rest is silence.  
  
  
The End.  
  
  
(1) Sonnet 61 by William Shakespeare (The Sonnets, Arden Edition, ed. by Katherine Duncan-Jones, 1997, page 233)


End file.
